A Shorting Circuit
by Steampoweredbunny
Summary: Hey guys, this is my first ever fic, so please r&r, and don't be afraid to hold back with the constructive criticism. Rated M for future sexual innuendos, language, violence, and maybe some detailed gore. Jack goes on a little bender, and with the new power he's acquired, will he finally succeed in world domination? What will Chase have to say about this new side of Jack? Enjoy!
1. Failure Brings Success

Too many failures had come to pass during the days since he had taken his first step into evil. In all honesty, he felt he wasn't even on the side of evil half the time. Wuya made sure to remind him of that regularly during her rants, and oh there were many. This was far from what his creative imagination had pictured. Too many nights, filled to the brim with disappointment, when he'd literally drag himself home with a body so bruised and beaten that the only spoils he had were the dark splotches of flesh littering his fair skin. Those monks had no idea what kind of suffering they caused him. The Wu were all they cared for. But he was the one on the wrong side. Of course he deserved this sort of beating. At least, in their eyes he did. See, the problem was that no one ever considered whether or not the evil ones had any feelings underneath those dark airs they put on for show. It was just custom to assume these beings were rotten to the core. Or maybe Jack was just not cut out to play the evil role in this grand play of his life. Again, Wuya certainly made it seem that way. For the past hour, all the albino could hear were her screeches of disappointment and disapproval. And for the first time in his life, he blocked all the noise out instead of spitting out some form of smartass rebuttal. Had those monks not destroyed his helipac, he could've been home in a moment's notice and saved himself the lecture provided by his ghostly companion. It was the hour of painfully dragging himself home through the _bitter_ winter wind that discerned something: he was through with being mocked and beaten like a punching bag. "Jack, you fool, are you even listening to-". _**SLAM!**_ Slamming the door in the ghost's face would've provided a sweet feeling had Wuya actually been able to feel the thick plank of wood smashed against her. Although he knew it wouldn't cause any physical damage, Jack was sure he'd guaranteed himself some alone time. Wuya fortunately learned not to follow her "partner in crime" when he locked himself away in the bathroom. Seeing him in the buff once was enough for the apparition. After some time of thinking, the male clicked his tongue and allowed his head to thump back against the door, pale lids seeping down to curtain dahlia hues. Was he really going to go back out there, sleep, and wake up the next day to devise a brand-new plan? A heavy sigh was drawn from his lungs, and with it went his will to do anything.

"Did you see the look on Spicer's face when we showed up? I bet even the pigs back home looked better than he did when the butcher came for 'em!" The blonde cowboy chortled away at his own joke, spinning their newly-acquired Wu around the tip of his index finger. Amused chuckles from the other three monks soon joined in with the heftier laughter as each of the teens prepped themselves for their little night out. It was amazing that they were even allowed some time to themselves, never mind go out and about. Unlike their enemy's home, the temple provided a rather cheerful atmosphere. Thin, wooden planks holding their sticks of Dragons Blood incense as it burned away, lanterns lit to provide a warm glow; there was to be celebrating tonight, and that was a definite. Christmas was just around the bend, and decorating for it couldn't have made a better way to end the day. While Omi wasn't all too familiar with the holiday, his friends were, and they were more than glad to teach him in the ways of it. Especially Kimiko. With her poor father's credit cards in hand (or rather, safely tucked away in her wallet), and her outfit already snuggly fitting her frame, the young woman all but pranced out with thoughts of what stores she planned on going to. Along with her went the Brazilian whom she'd become so fond of, sporting a sheepish grin at how close he got to be to her, and the last two monks. They had won another challenge, Christmas was nearing, and the start of a brand new year was getting closer and closer. Life was splendid… for the monks. But while they contentedly marched their way to the mall Kimiko had both her eyes and heart set on since the day they'd arrived to the temple, little did they know the turmoil surrounding their enemy.

Several minutes of staring down at the hands normally concealed by fingerless gloves passed. They were so calloused from constantly working on new devices. For a minute, Jack blanked out and pondered what the point of making such inventions even was. No matter what, those monks always managed to break them. Wuya's annoyed grumbles as she paced, _floated_, back and forth on the other side of the door reminded him why. Those accursed Wu. It wasn't like he even wanted them for anything important, besides taking over and ruling the world. Even that had little reason behind it. Most would think that anyone bent on ruling the world as they knew it wanted nothing more than all the power and money they could get their hands on. Jack? For Jack… it was the attention.

He wanted people to know him.

He wanted the attention and to prove himself as a worthy being. His parents did a horrible job of that. He reminded himself of a spoiled, little brat throwing a tantrum until they got what they wanted. And the more those thoughts rang in his mind, the less appealing his grand plan sounded. Any therapist could blame this on his parents. They had the wealth, the looks, everything. Everything but parenting skills. This house he lived in, the money for the technology, everything from the goggles around his neck to the coat he donned was all provided by none other than mister and missus Spicer. Being as neglectful as they were, the two hadn't a clue on just what their son had built in the basement of the house they were barely in. The albino was a prime example of what happens when parents neglect their children for so many years. Most kids would just become drug addicts or alcoholics. Maybe both. Jack simply became bent on taking over the world. There were plenty of opportunities for him to get shitfaced or high out of his mind: if he had the knowledge to create half of what was in his lab, creating an ID for booze would be elementary. But he strayed away from anything that would harm his mind in fear that they would get in the way of and eventually ruin his childhood goal of being leader of the world. If only- _knock knock knock. _Confusion seeped into the red eyes as soon as they opened, which proceeded to sink into his facial expression. Thin legs carried him out of the bathroom where he holed himself up, head turning to throw a quick glance at the large grandfather clock as he continued on to the front door.

Eight o'clock.

Who in god's name was knocking at _Jack Spicer's _door at eight in the evening? What little friends he had were off in different continents for the upcoming New Year celebration, and he knew they wouldn't be back anytime soon. Especially not before the new year even arrived. A pang of worry struck him like a car smashing into a brick wall. What if it was something not only unexpected, but unpleasant? What if- "Will you quit standing around and open the door, Jack?!" the ghost near him screeched. Pushing back the jolt that threatened to shake his body like before, Jack crept up to the door oh, so silently and just as quietly unlocked the large, wooden door. As if being quiet would help him after his partner decided to open that gaping hole she called a mouth. If vampires existed, and if the person behind the door was one of the undead creatures, Jack was sure they'd be able to hear the blood-pumping organ in his chest beating against the ribs it hid behind. With a deep inhale through the nostrils, he finally grasped the cold metal of the doorknob and twisted it, prying the barrier between himself and this stranger. "I should've looked through the peephole," he grumbled oh so quietly to himself, a grumble that couldn't possibly be heard by the human ear.

Outside stood a man dressed in a standard UPS uniform, a device serving as an area for signature in one hand and the handle of a cart grasped in the other. A second glance at the cart told him that it was stacked high with heavily-taped, cardboard boxes. Were those all for him…? "Jack Spicer?" The gruff voice broke him out of the daze he'd put himself into while trying to figure out who in the world would send him something. "Uh.. yeah?" The device was held out immediately after the confirmation, ready to sign. Hesitantly, the male scrawled down his name onto the screen as neatly as he could manage, though it came out as chicken scratch all the same. Much to his relief, the man soon quenched his curiosity by handing over the boxes, which were stacked up just a few feet away from the doorway. A simple tip of the hat was the man's only goodbye before he trudged his way back the recognizably large, black truck to continue his day of work. Now, nothing stood in the way of Jack tearing into those boxes to reveal what was lurking within. But before he had the chance to even dig his hands into the tape in futile attempts at prying it off, a thought hit him..

Who would even send him anything in the first place? What if these boxes were filled with explosives? What if one of the other evildoers finally considered him a threat and decided to get rid of him before any real trouble could go down? The thoughts were almost enough to keep him a few feet away from the potential forces of destruction, as if a few feet was enough to shield him from the impact of the explosion. Keeping his anxious gaze on the boxes, Jack called out to one of his bots, not finding himself surprised when the bot was by his side just at the very sound of his commanding voice. "Open those up," he ordered loud enough for the contraption to hear, and watched as the robotic version of himself dove down to begin tearing the strips of tape away with ease. Something he clearly had little patience or skill to do. Within moments, the boxes had been stripped of their bindings. Time stilled. One flap was pried to the side, followed by three others going in their own opposite direction, and at last the contents were revealed.

Various wrapped objects rested within, each sporting the shiny colors that could only be identified as colors of Christmas. No doubt gifts from his parents. "Why do you keep sending me this shit…?" he slowly whispered in a voice low enough to keep the meddling ghost from hearing, though he knew she probably did. Just as slowly as the words came out, Jack sank down to his knees, pale hands gently picking out the gift that lay atop the rest in their opened package and gingerly peeled away the wrapping, as if afraid that everything would become a blur and he'd wake up. Laying beneath the colorful paper was a large book, easily recognized as a book all about old myths and legends by the font of the lettering scrawled on the front cover, plastered above a well-drawn portrait of a magnificent dragon cloaked in what looked to be shadows otherwise portrayed as "evil" or "darkness".

For the first time in his years since his parents had ultimately decided to travel for their business, Jack felt touched. Touched by the fact that they could actually remember their son's love and fascination for all things mythical. When was the last time he had even mentioned the topic around them? A few memories popped into his mind here and there, ones of his younger years. Had it been that long already? Pushing the nostalgic, stomach-churning thoughts out of mind for the time being, Jack observed the details of the enormous book which, when eyed upon more closely, had to have cost quite the pretty penny. Upon running the pads of his fingers across his new prize, he'd discerned that both the spine and corners were bound in leather, while the front and back covers had more of a velvety feel to them. "This is so cool," he mumbled as eager fingers flipped through the pages without a moment to lose, mind losing itself in all the words it began to absorb from skimming through various passages of the text. His chest began to tighten and his head practically swelled with all the wondrous ideas that seemed to form on their own. Now, Jack knew that his parents wouldn't be the happiest if they found out their son was on the side of evil. Or trying to be, at least. But were they aware that dragons, these _mythical creatures, _existed, and that they had just given their son the one thing he needed to awaken a ferocious side he wasn't even aware of? The blood-pumping organ in his chest, even beating a mile a minute, was no match for the excitement.

As trembling fingers gripped the book tightly by the sides, a sadistic, _evil_ grin graced itself upon his lips. Oh, this would make for a sweet revenge.


	2. Sânge de rău

**Sorry if this chapter is way too long, too. I realize that the last paragraph in the first chapter was way too long. ene I've read and reread this next one constantly, but I still feel like it is **_**not sufficient in the least bit. **_**So please review! In this chapter, I decided to add in my own creation based off the Lao Mang Lone soup, along with a little history. Some of it is stuff I made up, such as the lake near Dracula's castle. I honestly don't know if there is one, and I'm unsure of whether or not Vladislav is his real name. Also, I've decided to add in some references of music and dark things that I think Jack would like. Hope you enjoy!**

Any normal night for Jack Spicer meant working on a new design for an even greater version of his precious Jack-bots, mixed in with plenty of rest and self-rewards for a job well done on the aforementioned design. Tonight would be the first in a long time that the technician would break that routine. For about an hour after he'd discovered the book his parents had sent him, he had locked himself up in his bedroom, being sure to actually lock the door to keep the pesky ghost out (as if a locked door could stop a ghost) and studied as far into the tales of the literature as he could. So far, all he'd retained was knowledge about how and when werewolves had come into existence. Though it felt useless, his eyes continued to skim through the text, desperately hoping to find any tidbits of information that would lift his spirits. Even Wuya became ensnared in the words splayed across the white pages as she hovered over the teen's shoulder. Turns out there was a chapter dedicated to apparitions and the "other side", something Jack promised to read later on to get the woman off his back. Or rather, his neck. An exasperated left him as he collapsed back onto the bed, allowing the heavy book to slide onto the floor. Everything plan that had formed in his mind now seemed nothing but recipes for disaster. Then again, his plans always were. "Oh, quit sulking!" snapped Wuya as she floated down to hover near the book. "Even if you did manage to find what you need, you'd _never _get close enough to Chase Young for an execution!" Jack grimaced at the thought. "I wasn't planning on executing him, _Wuya._ I just wanted to, y'know.. capture him and stuff. So everyone knows not to mess with me!" For the shortest of moments, the albino resembled his old self with that determined glint in those red eyes and a fist clenched in the air. But it all faded away too soon, leaving Jack looking as tired of ever. He was tired, in one too many ways. Just the thought of having to cross mountains to get _half _of the materials needed to win a duel against Chase left him exhausted. Drained was more of a word for it. Like the sluggishness one feels after losing too much blood. Heaving out an exasperated sigh, he slumped back down into a more-or-less comfortable position and turned his back to the apparition glaring at him. "I just need to sleep.. then I'll be ready to go." But was he?

Sleep turned out to be a failure. Not even an hour after he had fallen asleep, Wuya's annoyed yells of how he had slept enough were beginning to fill the dark bedroom, resulting in the displeased teen nearly falling onto the floor with a start. Now, Jack stood naked underneath the scalding water flowing from the shower head. The ashen flesh covering his figure was beginning to turn a bright, irritated red, but he paid no mind to it for the first few minutes. The heat felt nice. Even if it was a few degrees too high for most people. "I have no idea how I'm going to do this," he admitted to himself, eyes staring blankly at nothing in particular. Both hands came up to rub away the tears threatening to spill from his eyes. Why did he have to be such a baby? Even when Chase was on the goody-two-shoes side, he could still kick some serious ass. Jack blamed his strength, or lack thereof. He hid behind little robots and technology that did his bidding and more than often got his rear handed to him when it came down to depending on himself. "I'll just do what he did and find myself some Lao Mang Lone soup," Jack practically spit out with a heavy snort after composing himself. An eerie feeling came over him that led to chills creeping up his spine. The light bulb finally came on in that head of his.

_**Chapter Vl: Sânge de rău**_

_**The Sânge de rău is a rare form of immortality that is to be consumed only once and replaced with a regular diet of human or animal blood. With immortality it brings superhuman strength, speed, and a regenerative process superior to that of a human. The only known side effects are sensitivity to light and severe pains in the abdominal area unless blood consumption is frequent. While the abdominal pains do occur, it has been said that these beings are able to go weeks at a time without feeding before feeling the effects.**_

_**Its location was said to be at the bottom of the lake near the infamous "Dracula's Castle", but now holds a spotlight within the castle itself. Prior to the legends, the Sânge de rău is the beginning of the creatures known as "vampires" and was found by the very first of the species: Vladislav Dracula. Realizing what a curse the immortality was, he hid the Sânge de rău within a chest filled with stones and threw it into the dark lake, hoping to keep it out of the reach of humans.**_

Jack couldn't help but let out a laugh of victory. The book did come in handy after all! He made a mental note to thank his parents for it. After he was ruler of the world, of course. Once the helipac was all fixed up, the task would-…. A cool breeze swept by the teen, snapping him out of the trance he'd put himself in by thinking up plans. His head tilted down to get a look at himself. Naked. He had run out of the bathroom _naked_. At least he had the pleasure of knowing Wuya probably saw him. Such a sweet revenge for yelling at him constantly. With a pleased sigh, he pushed himself off the wet spot his damp body had created on the bed and headed for the closet. Feeling in an especially dark mood, the Frankenstein tee he normally wore was replaced with a Marilyn Manson one, though he stuck with the usual black pants. All that was left was fixing the destroyed helipac. "Get ready, Wuya," chirped Jack as he strolled by her on his way to the lab, "We're going to Dracula's Castle." Regardless of the sinister tone lurking beneath the words, the ghost could only mutter to herself about her foolish partner and his love of inferior monsters.


End file.
